


Tennessee Honey

by cherie_morte



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Breathplay, Drunk Sex, M/M, Possessive!Jensen, Salute to Supernatural Nashville Convention, non-au, rockstar!jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 11:13:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherie_morte/pseuds/cherie_morte
Summary: Jared is no stranger to getting texts like this from Jensen. It’s a booty call with some unspoken context; it means that Jensen’s surrounded by too many people to say all the ways he wants to destroy Jared out loud.





	Tennessee Honey

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Spring 2016 round of [spn_masquerade](https://spn-masquerade.livejournal.com/7665.html?thread=2449649) and originally fully posted [here](https://infatuated-ink.livejournal.com/99937.html). Based on a story J2 told at the 2016 Nashville convention about their shenanigans the night before after Jensen performed at the Saturday Night Special. I usually tweet a link out every year on Nashcon Saturday, but this year I am reposting in a last ditch effort to create good vibes for Jensen to be at the concert tonight, since I'll actually be at this one and it seems it'll be the first Nashville SNS in years he isn't going to perform at. I hope you all enjoy!

There are three fingers tucked into the waistband of his underwear when the phone vibrates. He’s been here like this for a while, lazy and lonely and trying to decide between a joyless jerkoff session and just committing to sleep already. He could use the relief. Even if it won’t be much more than that, it might shut his brain up enough to let him rest. They have an early morning tomorrow, after all.

Jared is thinking about Jensen. Perpetually, but now especially, with his hand resting on his stomach, just a few inches north of where he wants it. It’s easy to imagine Jensen down with the crowd, singing to all those people. He’s probably on stage already, straining to hear himself over the fans cheering his name. Jared’s been there before, has seen the way sex appeal just oozes off him—even more than usual—when Jensen forgets his insecurities and lets the music rule him. He gets into it alright, all amped up, and Jared has gotten to work that out of his system a few times.

Jensen asked him to be there tonight. Made some stupid joke about how if Jared won’t cheer for him no one will, and Jared thought about it. Clearly. He’s still thinking about it now. He doesn’t _have_ to be alone.

Except for how maybe he kind of does. Only one way it can end. And that—fuck, just the thought of it has Jared’s hand drifting down a little more. His dick is starting to get hard in a hazy, sluggish way. Jared feels weirdly removed from himself, slow as molasses, like he’s drunk and distracted, but he’s not, he’s stone cold sober. He’s just not present. His body is up here in this hotel room, the sound of the radio the only thing breaking the silence, but his mind and his heart are standing behind that curtain, waiting for Jensen to come back through, exhilarated and hyper-focused and _fucking hungry for him_.

Jared’s fingers are just starting to wrap around his dick when the phone goes off, and his instinct is to ignore it. It’s probably just Gen letting him know that she’s home from her date, that the kids are tucked in and asleep. Nothing that can’t wait 15 minutes.

But there’s the off chance. _Maybe it’s Jensen_ whispers in the back of his mind and…wasn’t the point of being here, not at the concert, wasn’t the point supposed to be to go one damn night without caving to Jensen?

He compromises. Keeps his right hand on his dick and reaches across the nightstand for his phone.

**U awake?**

Jared is no stranger to getting texts like this from Jensen. It’s a booty call with some unspoken context; it means that Jensen’s surrounded by too many people to say all the ways he wants to destroy Jared out loud. By now Jared can read the silent promises in these two little words, and it has him tightening his grip on his cock.

There are a few options here. Before he even thinks about it, he’s typed out a response about Jensen’s grammar, and his thumb is lingering over send. He hits backspace. That’s what Jensen’s expecting. That would be as good as an invitation.

He could always ignore it, that would read like a ‘no.’ Anything else he says, up to and including Jared insisting he’s trying not to be and not looking to be talked out of it, would just leave Jensen room to negotiate. And Jensen knows how to take a mile if Jared gives an inch.

The phone vibrates again, this time against Jared’s palm. **Nightcap?**

His heart sinks. Because that right there is confirmation of everything Jared hates himself for thinking. But by the time he can focus again, he’s already sent a response. **Where?**

There’s a knock on the door a few seconds later. The fucker was already on his way here, didn’t even have to wait for Jared’s answer. Jared gets irrationally annoyed at himself for replying, but he climbs out of bed anyway, tucks his dick back into his SAXX with a sigh. The erection he’d been nursing has wilted, but he knows it’ll be back as soon as he reaches the door and sees what’s on the other side.

Jensen is leaning his head against the doorframe when Jared opens it. The first thing he does when he sees Jared is sweep his gaze down and then he smiles, slow and dirty.

It's pretty ironic, Jared thinks, that Jensen is the only one left who _hasn't_ played Lucifer, because if the devil looked like this, even Sam Winchester wouldn't be able to say no to him. Jared is no Sam Winchester, as much as he enjoys pretending otherwise.

"I like this outfit," Jensen says, voice low and a little rough from singing.

Jared looks down at his naked chest and briefly wishes he'd put a shirt on. It seemed pointless, in the twelve seconds between getting out of bed and opening the door, to put something on when he knew it would be coming right off. But under the weight of Jensen's stare, he feels like he gave up some kind of tactical victory before the battle even started.

"Uh, thanks," he says, trying to sound groggy and uninterested, like Jensen isn't setting his blood on fire just by breathing.

He moves to make space for Jensen to enter and turns his back. "Gimme a few minutes to get dressed and we can head to the hotel bar for a drink."

"You want me to let you _put more clothes on_?" Jensen asks with a laugh. Jared feels a warm hand on his bare shoulder and he gives in to the light pressure, lets Jensen guide him until they’re face-to-face again. “That’s, like, the opposite of what I came here to do.”

“There’s no mini-bar here,” Jared says. “I thought you wanted to get drinks.”

“You’re so cute when you play dumb,” Jensen tells him, pulling Jared down for a kiss. 

Jared's heart speeds up for a minute, because if Jensen wants him, just him, not drinks, that might mean something. The kiss is quick, but it’s open enough that Jared gets a taste of spearmint gum and expensive whiskey and just a hint of a cigarette Jensen must have indulged in before the other two, because it’s faint and Jared has to chase it, lick into Jensen’s mouth to really be sure.

He turns his face away, because god knows he’ll never stop if he doesn’t break the contact. “You’re already drunk.”

“Had a few at the show,” says Jensen. He tilts his head so that his lips drag along Jared’s jaw. “But if you’re worried I won’t be able to get it up, I promise that won’t be a problem.”

Jensen’s pelvis thrusts out just enough to press against Jared’s, and Jensen’s jeans are too thick for Jared to tell if he’s starting to get hard, but he can definitely feel his own cock swelling again.

“Never is for you, is it?”

Jared feels the vibration of the ‘mmm’ sound Jensen answers him with, and then Jensen’s rising up, pressing his mouth to Jared’s ear. “Should have been there, Jared. I sang ‘Whipping Post.’ Thought about you the whole time, too, about you tying me up. It was hot.”

Jared does everything he can to try to stay focused. “Well, I’m sure I’ll hear all about it tomorrow.”

“Then I thought it’d be better the other way around, though.” Jensen starts to suck on the shell of his ear, his tongue swiping out before he continues, “Thought about tying you up so no one else could get near you. So I could have you all to myself. All mine to do whatever I want to. Almost got hard on stage just imagining it.”

“Jesus, fuck,” Jared curses.

Jensen pulls back. His eyes are glassy, but they’re blown wide with desire, a much darker shade of green than Jared is used to. “I can give you a private performance.” Jared’s gaze gets stuck on his shiny bottom lip, and Jensen must see him looking from the way he smirks. “But I bet there’re things you’d rather have my mouth doing right now.”

Jared doesn’t even finish his nod before he’s trying to pull Jensen closer, scrambling to bunch his fingers in Jensen’s leather jacket. It’s too slick to get a good grip, and Jared finds himself shoving it down and off instead.

“Careful,” Jensen says, but he’s grinning against Jared’s mouth. He lowers the leather to the floor gently and then reaches over his head to pull off his Henley, which he ditches with much less ceremony. “I love that jacket.”

“Jensen, please,” Jared begs, and he knows distantly, somewhere in the back of his mind where his brain is still working, that he should be ashamed. He was gonna stand his ground the next time Jensen came to him like this, was going to have a Serious Conversation with capital letters and life-changing revelations, and instead he couldn’t even put up a token protest.

But Jensen is _so hot_ like this: a little sloppy from the alcohol, commanding and bossy and confident. This Jensen doesn’t ask for permission, doesn’t doubt that he owns Jared for even a moment. And Jared _wants_ to belong to him—when everything is boiled down to nothing, that’s all Jared wants. To be Jensen’s.

Jensen shoves him so hard he stumbles back a few steps, goes tumbling ass first onto the bed. By the time he regains his sense enough to focus, Jensen is standing between his legs, undoing his belt deliberately, making sure Jared is watching every movement of his hand as he works it off.

Jared wonders for a moment if Jensen is going to make good on his dirty talk, use it to strap him to the headboard or…maybe for something even more intense than that. Jensen gets a little rough when he’s like this, and he knows Jared won’t stop him. Jared drops his head to the mattress with a groan just thinking about it, and Jensen tosses the belt aside, his lips quirking in a way that makes it clear it was just the suggestion of the threat he wanted Jared to feel.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Jensen asks, leaning forward, looming over Jared in a way they both know he couldn’t if Jared wanted to stop him. “You’ll let me do anything I want.”

“Yes,” Jared admits. “Please.”

Jensen straightens and Jared sits up, following him. When Jensen lets his jeans drop, Jared is there immediately, hands steady on his hips, head tilted up to meet Jensen’s eyes, and he knows how desperate he must look. Like he’s worshipping a god, and fuck it, because he feels like he is.

Inches from his face, Jensen’s dick is a long, thick line through his boxers. He reaches out with one hand, fingers trembling as they trace the shaft through the fabric, and Jensen’s eyes drop shut, his breath leaving him in a soft rush.

His hands curl in Jared’s hair and Jared whispers, “Can I?”

“Wanna suck me?” Jensen asks, husky whiskey soaked words that make Jared feel like he’s walking on a star. “Bet you’d love that. Love my cock, don’t you? Get so slutty for it. Only mine, right? Wouldn’t be like this for anyone else, would you?”

Jared shakes his head, lets Jensen push him forward until his face is pressed to Jensen’s crotch, and he can smell the smoke clinging to Jensen, as well as the precome soaking into his underwear.

He pulls Jensen’s boxers down with one hand, doesn’t mind that Jensen’s dick springs out and smears on his cheek as soon as it’s free. Jared licks the tip and opens his mouth immediately, eager to take in as much as he can, but Jensen’s hand tightens in his hair and yanks him back until Jared is looking up at him.

“Were you thinking about me up here by yourself, Jared?”

Jared nods, not minding the way the strands still caught between Jensen’s fingers tug and ache.

“Did you open yourself up thinking about me?” he asks. “Are you ready to take it?”

With a whine, Jared shakes his head. He should have, wishes he had. He was so busy telling himself this wasn’t going to happen tonight, but now all he wants is Jensen inside of him as soon as fucking possible.

"Next time, then," Jensen says with a soft laugh, and his too-tight grip in Jared's hair melts until his palm is pressed to Jared's cheek, gently angling Jared to look up.

Jared melts right along with him, forgets he was ever upset, because the possessiveness has taken on a soft edge, as if Jared is something special, something worth getting territorial over. It's probably just the booze washing out Jensen's features and Jared is probably making it mean more because he has to, but there's enough there to pretend, and if Jared wasn't good at pretending, his life would look very different.

Jensen angles his head down to smile at Jared and asks, "Do you want it, Jared? I can get you ready. Please just—want it."

Jared laughs at Jensen's half-drunken babble, half-dirty talk, but he moves back on the bed, pulling Jensen with him by one hand.

"Stop laughing at me," Jensen insists with a slight pout that Jared cups his face to kiss away. "I'm a sex god."

"I believe you," Jared murmurs, letting his lips graze over Jensen's jaw. "But you're taking an awfully long time to prove it."

Jensen laughs, shifting them both until he's lying on Jared's right side, his touch roving over Jared's chest. He's not slow or subtle about what's he's going for, has his hand stuffed into Jared's underwear in about half a minute. He doesn't even bother to get Jared naked before his hand is slipping down, foregoing Jared's cock and balls completely, and circling Jared's hole with one finger.

He pushes in just like that, completely dry, and Jared makes a choked sound. "Dude! Lube!"

Jensen wiggles his finger in Jared's ass for a few more seconds before his brain seems to catch up with Jared's complaint. "Oh, right. Fuck. Sorry."

"It's okay," Jared says, relaxing his body as much as possible as Jensen pulls out.

"Didn't want to hurt you," Jensen continues, his voice a little slippery. "Just want in you so bad. Jared, you should see what you look like right now."

"Didn’t hurt. Just feels kinda weird is all." Jared turns to his nightstand, grabs his travel case and pulls out a packet of lube. "I can do this. You'll just make a mess."

Jensen huffs against Jared's neck as Jared pushes down his underwear. "'m not _that_ drunk."

"Uh huh," Jared says as he drips some of the lube onto his fingers and reaches down, spreading it and pushing in. "Kiss me."

Instead of doing as Jared asked, Jensen keeps his lips on Jared's throat, starts to suck at him in a way that feels _really fucking nice_ in combination with the way Jared is fingering himself, especially when Jensen starts to idly fiddle with his nipples.

"C-careful," Jared chokes out. "Don't leave a mark. You know what the fans will think."

"That we're having some kind of illicit affair?" Jensen asks, his thumb and forefinger squeezing Jared's nipple just as Jared hits the right spot and he groans loud and shameless. Jensen bites lightly at the skin of Jared's throat. "Don't know where they get those crazy ideas."

"Jensen," Jared moans as he adds another finger. "Please."

"Fuck, Jared, love hearing you like that." He pulls up enough to look Jared over and then he sucks a finger into his mouth. "Love watching how you take anything for me."

The spit-slick finger Jensen draws from between his lips goes down immediately to join the two Jared already has knuckle deep inside himself, and that's when Jared cries out, so full and stretched and somehow still feeling empty.

This isn't Jensen's first rodeo, and even drunk he finds just the right rhythm with Jared's fingers. Jared is painfully hard, but he knows Jensen won't let him get off like this.

"Jensen, you gotta fuck me," he says. "Please fuck me."

Jensen pulls out right away and picks up the packet of lube Jared had left to the side. He squeezes out the rest of it and Jared watches, still fucking himself on two fingers, as Jensen jacks his cock. He makes space when Jensen crawls forward to position himself, and in one smooth motion Jensen lines himself up and pushes in.

It's careful but not slow. Jensen nails him to the mattress with a deliberate thrust of his hips, and Jared feels all the air get punched out of him. He gasps, fingers digging into Jensen's shoulders and feet into his ass as he pushes himself up to take everything Jensen gives him.

Jensen swears under his breath, then sets a pattern, fucking Jared fast and rough like no one ever has before. Jared probably wouldn't let anyone else use him like this, certainly wouldn't like it, but with Jensen it's the same thing every time: Jared ends up screaming so loud it's a miracle no one has heard them. 

He should be more careful, he knows, but the truth is that having Jensen like this, anyway he can, it's worth the risk. Jensen must not feel the same way, because he claps a hand over Jared's mouth as soon as he gets too loud, laughing as he pours out whispered filth about how slutty Jared is for him, how he'll get them both in trouble with his big mouth.

Jared knows he's not wrong, so he doesn't fight it. Kind of likes the way he loses his breath between Jensen's dick pounding him and the hand over his mouth. Jensen's eyes get darker as he watches Jared, and he lets his hold slide down. Jared doesn't get a chance to scream loud enough to be heard, because Jensen wraps his hand around Jared's throat.

Spots appear behind Jared's eyes, and he feels light-headed. And maybe he should worry—Jensen's drunk and rowdy after all, but even now Jared trusts him. Jensen holds on until tears start to form in the corners of Jared's eyes and then he lets go completely, grabbing the headboard instead.

The sudden rush of air, the contrast between one moment and the next, makes Jared's brain shut down, and he could almost come just like this, nothing on his cock. He takes deep breaths for a few minutes before he can even think to try to get himself off, and by then Jensen has one hand on his ass, using it to bring him up to meet his body with even more force than before.

"Gonna fuck you up," Jensen promises. "Shit, Jared. You feel so good."

It takes Jared a few tries, and when he does speak again, his voice is raspy, but he manages to whisper Jensen's name and Jensen snaps into him a few more times, starting to come while his name is still on Jared's lips.

He pulls out of Jared as soon as his climax is over, but he doesn't forget to take care of Jared. Jensen never does.

"Wanna taste you," Jensen says as he moves down Jared's body, one quick lick to his nipple before he's made his way to Jared's dick. "Wanna feel how hard you are for me."

Jensen wraps a fist around Jared's shaft and takes him down as far as he can. It's not the best blowjob Jared has gotten in his life—not by a longshot. Jensen is sloppy and uncoordinated and still a little new to this. But he's enthusiastic and perfect and Jared is already lit up. It doesn't take much.

When he lets go, Jensen tries to swallow. His head pops back up into Jared's line of vision with come on his chin and Jared can't help laughing, even as he's still panting and shaking.

"What?" Jensen asks. "Why are you laughing at me? You have any idea how insecure that makes a guy feel?"

"C'mere," Jared says, pulling him up. He licks the come off Jensen, making content sounds as he goes, until Jensen is all clean. Then he kisses him, eyes closed, heart on his sleeve.

Jensen allows it, waits through a long, languid make-out session before he gets out of bed and pulls his boxers on. Jared feels a little bitter watching him get dressed so soon after fucking, so he turns over, fakes a loud yawn.

He really is almost drifting to sleep when he feels fingers trailing lightly along his back. "Hey, Jared, don't fall asleep."

"Why not?" Jared asks. "You know, I was well on my way before you showed up here."

"Not gonna apologize for what just happened," Jensen replies in a drawl. "You loved it."

"Yeah, I guess I did," Jared admits.

"I'm almost sober and it's—" The mattress shifts as Jensen gets back on it and suddenly it's a kiss at the top of his spine instead of a touch. "It's only 10 in Vancouver. Much too early for sleep. Come on, we're still relatively young, virile men. We can still go out for a drink. Come back and do this all again."

"Is this about your upcoming birthday?" Jared asks. "I'm so not trying to be part of your mid-life crisis, Jensen."

"Why are you being such a bitch?" 

Jensen is clearly teasing, but the question irks him somehow. Maybe it's one time too many and Jared doesn't really think about what he's about to say before it's out of his mouth. "Why do you only want me when you're drunk?"

There's silence for a long moment until finally Jensen says, "What?"

"You heard me," Jared responds, grateful that he did this with his back turned to Jensen, so he doesn't have to see whatever face Jensen is making.

"I left my wife for you." Jensen doesn't let Jared get away with it, puts a hand on Jared's shoulder and pulls until he's on his back, looking up at angry green eyes. "How could you ask me that?"

"You left your wife and then you started fucking me," says Jared. "It's been months, and you're not exactly telling anyone about the split, so—"

"Dani and I are keeping up appearances," Jensen snaps. "You know, like you and Genevieve have been doing for your entire sham marriage. What do you want me to do, huh? Go up on the stage tomorrow and announce that we're fucking? Lose that shoo-in season renewal we've all been banking on, kill both of our careers? Tell me what the hell you want from me."

"I don't need you to talk to anyone else. I just want you to talk to _me_."

"Silly me," Jensen says, pushing away from Jared. "Here I thought there wasn't anything left to talk about. I thought…" He licks his lips and cuts his eyes away from Jared. 

"You've never even kissed me sober. You still act like you did before when you're not drunk. Like we're friends and that's it—"

"That was never _it_ ," Jensen replies. "We were never just friends, Jared. I thought we already had each other in every way but this. I thought this was the last thing. I thought the rest of it was so obvious it didn't need saying."

"I just want to understand what we are now," Jared says. "Because I've waited such a long time for you. And I'll wait forever if I have to, but at least before I was clear on where I stood. Now I'm lost, man. You're platonic until you get loaded and then you're all fucking over me."

"Maybe I'm scared of you," says Jensen, his voice so soft Jared almost can't make out the words. "Maybe it's not fair that I'm the one that has to make all the leaps in this."

Jared's brows draw together and he stares at Jensen in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"It took me eleven years to get up the nerve to kiss you. And that was drunk. I'm terrified— _terrified_ —of losing you, Jared. So if a little whiskey is what it takes to make this happen, I don't see the problem. And if you do, why don't _you_ try fucking kissing _me_ sober sometime?"

"Jensen, I—"

"No, fuck you. This isn't fair." He stands up and starts to look for his clothes, and Jared watches him put one leg through his jeans before he realizes this could be it. He could lose Jensen. "You know I get stuck in my head sometimes. A little alcohol makes me stop overthinking, makes me more confident. But you think I wouldn't love to know where we stand, to be able to have you whenever I want, too? Jesus, Jared. I'm fucking trying. This is all new to me. You're not doing anything to make it—"

"I thought you knew," Jared says. He's gotten out of bed now, has one hand on each of Jensen's shoulders and is straightening him up so that they're looking right into each other's faces. "I thought maybe I was just convenient."

"We're risking everything we spent 10 years building every time we kiss, how is that convenient?"

"I just meant, if you were looking for a rebound, for someone to fuck while you try to get over Danneel…" Jared shrugs. "I'm always right here. I'm easy."

Despite his anger, Jensen's lip quirks up a bit. "Well, you definitely are easy."

"Shut up," he says, giving Jensen a light slap on the chest. "You know what I meant. I'm a sure thing for you, Jensen."

"If I wanted a sure thing, I'm not exactly low on attractive fans throwing themselves at me," Jensen points out, and, when he puts it like that, he has a pretty good point. "If I wanted something fast, I could have stayed at the concert or gone out on my own. Why do you think I come looking for you every time?"

"I don't know. I hoped it was because you wanted me, but. I'm so used to you not wanting me. I couldn't help doubting." Jared bites his lip. "I didn't just decide I like dick a few months ago. I've been gay this whole time. I figured you've known how I felt about you from day one."

"How am I supposed to know when you never say—?"

Jared leans in and kisses Jensen, tries to say more with the gentle prod of his tongue, the pressure of his lips, than he can with words. He's made a damn mess of words.

"I'm sober," he says, pressing his forehead to Jensen's when he breaks the kiss. "That's me kissing you sober."

"Well, I'm soberish," Jensen tells him, trying to hold a scowl. He rises up an inch and kisses Jared. "That's me saying I want you all the time."

"Okay," Jared says, trying to keep his face set on something like a neutral expression. Inside, he feels like every part of him wants to bounce in a different direction, like he might smile so hard his face breaks. Suddenly, he feels like celebrating. "Okay. Then. We'd better get dressed."

"Dressed?"

"Yeah, for our nightcap. We were going to go get drunk, then come back for round two, remember?"

"Dude, you _hated_ that idea five minutes ago."

Jared loses the fight to keep his grin in check. "Do you have any idea how much can change in five minutes?"

Jensen rolls his eyes, but Jared knows there's a smile just seconds away from showing on his face, as well. "You're changing your mind so fast you might make my head spin."

"Keep up, old man," Jared teases. "Consider this a birthday present, since we both know tomorrow I'm gonna be the one with a splitting headache and you'll be chipper as can be." 

"Yeah, and I'm old," Jensen says drily.

"Bar downstairs?" Jared offers.

Jensen wraps an arm around Jared's middle from behind. "Nah. Let's go out. So everyone can see who you're with."

A part of him kind of wants to cry at that, at hearing Jensen so casual about something he's waited ten years to hear. And even though they won't be able to let the world know who they belong to—not for a long time, at least—Jared's happier than he thinks he's ever been knowing for himself.

"Call Clif?" Jared asks, embarrassed because such a mundane question should not be accompanied by the crack in his voice.

"Just us tonight," Jensen answers, passing up the chance to tease Jared for being overemotional, which he figures he'll be rewarding Jensen for later. 

Jensen's clothes are scattered, but at least he only has one option. Jared takes a little longer to get ready, even though he grabs the first pair of jeans in his bag and a shirt.

He grins at Jared as soon as they're both dressed. "Might wanna put on a scarf."

Jared raises an eyebrow, then Jensen lifts a hand to his throat, so Jared turns to look in the mirror. He sees the gigantic red mark Jensen sucked into his skin and sighs. "I told you to be careful about that."

"Yeah, you told me that the last fifty times, too," Jensen replies unapologetically. "I guess I just really like seeing you in scarves."


End file.
